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Poem

I sit upon the harbour wall
And feel the warm sun on my face.
I turn my gaze far out to sea
And watch the happy dolphins play.
Bright sunbeams slanting through the clouds
Are searchlights toying with the waves.

I lean against the cold hard lines
Of granite blocks quite roughly hewn
With urgent cries and rapid fire
Of circling seabirds overhead.

I hear the splashing, rippling waves –
That wash upon the wrinkled sand.
I watch the little fishing smacks
That bob and sway upon the tide.

The Black Lion pub surveys the bay
Of Llareggub; that famous town
Where Thomas-the-Verse composed his lines.
But he’s not supping here today,
No clouds of smoke from cheap Woodbines –
His spirit floats down Donkey Street.

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